


December, 1928

by TheDancer



Category: Downton Abbey, Downton Abbey movie
Genre: Baking, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21962260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDancer/pseuds/TheDancer
Summary: Thomas and Richard are left unattended in the kitchen at Downton. What could possibly go wrong.Merry Christmas everyone! Here's my little festive gift to the fandom (and to myself to be fair). Enjoy!
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis
Comments: 19
Kudos: 142





	December, 1928

The sun was hanging low in the sky, causing it and the landscape of Yorkshire to be dipped in a rosy pink at the edge of the horizon. Behind them the moon started to claim its spot in the sky among the twinkle of stars, closely resembling the Christmas lights in Downton Village. Above Thomas and Richard, clouds shook out little snowflakes that stuck to the top of their hats, coats spotted with specks of white. The silent streets had something magical with the little cottages sparkling with frosty rooftops. Their breaths crystalized in front of them in the crisp cold winter air. It would have been freezing if Thomas did not feel so warm on the inside.

Cut to a few hours prior.

It was the day before Christmas. Richard had arrived early in the morning by train, officially on holiday to visit his parents. Nevertheless, he had spent the whole day at Downton Abbey, much to the delight of the butler, since they had not even known for sure, if the valet would get time off at all. But they had been lucky; Mr. Miller had wanted New Year’s off, which meant the butler got to spend the holidays with his sweetheart. Well, three days anyway.

Thomas was on duty, but Richard did not mind. He spent his time reading and chatting with the amiable staff of the Abbey. To this day, much to Thomas’ bewilderment, Richard could not believe, how different the working environment here out in the countryside was from Buckingham Palace. After repeated attempts of interrogation, the valet had let Thomas in on the rigidity of the royal household. He wrinkled his nose at the tales; The butler was not keen on service, even after his promotion, but the loose Downton environment made it at least bearable. Richard’s awe at the friendliness and liveliness at the Abbey warmed his heart and felt like a dagger in the ribs simultaneously.

At some point Thomas came downstairs to assess the status of the Christmas preparations for the next day. Most of the servants were discharged of their duties over the first and second Christmas day (he as the head of house was one of the exceptions), but obviously the staff’s hungry mouths had to be fed nonetheless, much to the chagrin of poor Mrs Patmore. To worsen the busy circumstances of the cook, a mix-up in the groceries delivery had completely derailed her schedule. When Thomas stepped into the kitchen, the older lady was shouting abuse at Daisy, who herself was fuming at the mouth, batting a dough with way more force than necessary.

“How the bloody hell am I supposed to make gingerbread without the spices? This house, I’m telling you…”

Thomas felt he should intervene as The Butler of Said House, Defending Its Honour.

“Mrs Patmore, I know it’s been a tough day, but can we please keep some manners intact?”

Both cook and kitchen assistant snapped their heads up at the comment.

“Well, if you can get me what I need in time, I’ll stop complaining”, Mrs Patmore so much as hissed. The unusual aggression in her voice almost made Thomas take a step back, as if trying to dodge a spit of venom.

From behind, Thomas suddenly felt a gentle presence, the one he had learned to appreciate most in the past year and a half.  _ Already a year and a half? My, how time flew when you had fun. _

Richard peeked over the butler’s shoulder into the kitchen. “Mrs. Patmore, how about I head into the village and go shopping? That way, you’ll have time for business and I can make myself feel useful.”

The kind offer conjured a little smile on to the cook’s face. She stopped her flurry of hand movements for a second, leaning against the table top in exhaustion. “That’s too kind Mr. Ellis, but it’s as bad as a blizzard out there and I couldn’t bother you on your precious time off.”

Richard wrinkled his forehead and made a vague throwing gesture. “Rubbish, I’m happy to catch some fresh air. Besides, I enjoy the snow. It’s never this fluffy in London.”

It was things like that, which caused Thomas to lower his head in an attempt to hide a fond smile spreading on his face. He still could not quite fathom, why such a pure-hearted soul like Richard chose to be with a man like him. It just did not add up in his head.

Richard was already moving towards the back door to fetch his coat and hat on the rack, when Thomas’ mind came up with its first sharp thought of the day. “Actually, I’ll join Mr. Ellis. Need to fetch something from the post office. I’ll help him with carrying the bags.”

Thomas turned around on the spot, also seeking his outdoor gear. As he left the kitchen, he could not fail to overhear a valid point Daisy shared in that moment. “I thought Mr. Ellis was only supposed to get some spices? Where’s the need for four arms to carry back those?”

“Oh, shut up Daisy, will ya.”

As the amount of stress in the kitchen returned to its former level at the quip, Thomas was perfectly happy to slip in to his warm, long coat that Richard held out and helped him in to. The butler grabbed his bowler and swiftly opened the servants’ door. “After you”, he said with a grin, all the gentleman. It was enough to make Richard blush slightly along a mumbled “Thank you”. It was one of the highest rewards for Thomas.

The weather was rather dreadful. Thick snowflakes did not allow for a far view, the conditions certainly too unpredictable to take a car into the village. Therefore, the two brave men started to trudge through the cold snow piling on the path. They did not speak to each other, the howling winds preventing any attempt at conversation.

Eventually, the little bell above the shop door announced their arrival. Thomas could feel bits of snow sliding down the inside of his coat collar and the wet sensation made him shiver in an uncomfortable way. He forgot about his own state though, when he got a good look at Richard. The snow stuck to the fabric of his coat, painting it almost completely white. His hat was covered in the icy mass as well and even his eye lashes carried crystals with every blink. He looked like a snow troll. Thomas let out an ugly snort, imagining his own looks.

“Oi, don’t you laugh, you’re no better.” The threat was greatly mitigated by the beam enlightening Richard’s face though. The man shook his shoulders in an attempt to rid some of the snow. The picture made Thomas’ heart thump a little faster and his cheeks a little warmer.

The butler quickly reminded himself that they were not here for fun, but on a mission. He walked up to the counter, taking off his hat, causing bits of snow to fall onto the wooden floor.

The short, round owner of the shop eyed both of his new customers warily, his sceptical stare shouting ‘mad men’. His voice revealed just a tad of his suspicions. “Even I can’t think of anything so urgent, you’d have to go out for in that weather.”

“Believe me, when you’ve got an undersupplied cook you’ll do anything to keep your head on your shoulders.”

The cashier huffed out a laugh. “What’s it Mrs Patmore needs?”

Thomas tried to remember, but could not wrap his head around, what they had come for in the first place. He glanced over at Richard with pleading eyes. The valet caught the underlying question instantly.

“Delivery was missing spices. Apparently she wants to make gingerbread, so I guess whatever one requires for that.” He smiled politely at the man across the counter, ever so charming. Thomas nodded in agreement, not having a single clue what Richard had just said. How was he supposed to focus, with his companion looking the way he did.

“Right, no problem, I’ll fetch it straight away.” The cashier did not even finish the sentence, before turning around and bustling along the high shelves in search for their order. He too must be eager to get home to his family for the holidays.

By the time the two men received their purchases and stepped back out onto the quiet main road of Downton Village, the snowfall had lessened noticeably. Soft flakes of white settled on the pavement, making the tranquil town look like the picture on a Christmas postcard. Slowly, Thomas and Richard started to make their way back to the house. They talked about everything and nothing while trudging through the streets, Thomas complaining about the perpetual smell of brussel sprouts in the downstairs facilities since the early hours of the morning. Richard elaborated on his dinner plans with his family.

“You should come by”, Richard smiled from the side. “My mum’d love to meet you. And I wouldn’t be surprised if dad’d interrogate you all night on how to take care of his silver pocket watch properly. It’s the only heirloom left.” Richard’s eyes flickered downward when they caught the glimpse of a little silver chain around Thomas’ neck. “Well, apart from one thing.”

The butler did not even bother to hide his blossoming grin at the revelation. 

“I’m off tonight, but back on duty tomorrow. Perhaps I could be able to sneak off on the 26th though for two hours or so. Normally not much going on that day, I don’t think anyone’d notice.”

“That settles it then”, Richard concluded decisively. He tucked his chin further into the collar of his coat when a slight wind blew snowflakes right into their faces. “Thomas Barrow’ll witness the madness that is Christmas at the Ellis household. Hope you don’t mind children. I’m guessing my sisters will bring along all my nephews and nieces.”

“Don’t mind at all”, Thomas added quickly. “I like children.”

As Thomas turned towards Richard, the butler met the valet’s glance, shining with adoration. Their stares were glued to each others faces for a moment, until suddenly Richard took a step onto an icy patch hidden beneath the snow. His left foot gave way and the man slipped with the speed of lightning. Thomas’ brain switched into automatic mode: His hands reached out with an uncanny velocity, grasping Richard’s forearm to try and hold him up, before he could fall to the ground. The rescue was at least partly successful. Richard managed to stabilise himself with only one knee hitting the frozen ground before pulling himself back up, thanks to Thomas’ grip. 

Both of their breathing was slightly more erratic after the almost-accident. Thomas searched Richard’s face for any sign of painful injury. Instead, he found some shock and a childish glint in it. Only a split second later they both burst out laughing, not sure whether it was because either of them were relieved or genuinely saw the comedy in the situation. One way or another, the giggles painted a rose colour onto their cheeks and placed a warmth in their bellies that made them more than comfortable for the rest of the way.

When they stepped back into the madness of Downton Christmas, things shifted from easy and relaxed to hectic and stressful pretty quickly. The radio in the servants’ hall was crackling in the background, festive jazz tunes raising the noise level further. They heard Mrs Patmore’s orders before even entering the kitchen.

“... cannot believe you’d allow yourself to be this stupid on a night like this!”

The cook’s anger was self-explanatory as soon as Thomas laid eyes on the puddle of some kind of stuffing and porcelain shards on the floor in front of Andy. The poor lad looked close to crying.

“I’m so sorry Mrs Patmore, I can’t believe it myself, it just slipped-”

“Now, now, let’s not get bogged down on a minor tragedy”, Thomas walked up to the cupboard in the back and grabbed the dustpan stored there. “Andy, go up and do a good footman’s job, and Mrs. Patmore, I’ll clean this up for you, no worries.” He bent down and started the task.

Mrs Patmore still was not fully consoled. “But how am I going to prepare a yule log and a turkey at the same time?” Her voice sounded too weak for a strong persona like her.

Thankfully, Richard had a gift for saying the right things at the right time. “Calm yourself, everything’ll be fine. How about you continue with the difficult part being the turkey and Mr. Barrow and I do the log thing.”

Thomas threw a quick glance up from the spot on the floor he was occupying over at Richard, his eyes communicating something along the lines of ‘Are you mad? I don’t even know what a bloody yule log is.’ The valet’s response was a tiny shrug with a look saying ‘Well, we better find out soon then, cause me neither.’ 

The promise did finally manage to stop Mrs Patmore from almost fainting. “Oh, you really are a creature sent from above, aren’t you.”

Richard smiled sweetly, masking the underlying uncertainty very certainly only noticed by Thomas. Just then, Mrs Hughes peeked in through the door frame, her brows furrowed with stress. “Mrs Patmore, a word please?” The cook followed the agitated lady without further questions. Before leaving the room, she tapped an opened book on the counter. “Here’s the recipe. If you do need any help, go look for Daisy, she should be somewhere about.”  _ How reassuring. _

All of the actually trained kitchen staff not present in said room at least meant that one could move freely along the stove and cupboards again. Thomas got up from his kneeling stance and moved towards the bin in the corner, dumping the remainders of a dish that shall never be eaten. He slowly turned around, an incredulous expression directed at the only other person in the room. Who, to fit the situation, was currently scratching his head as his eyes skipped over the recipe book.

“So you actually just promised to make food you’ve never even heard of before.”

“Excuse me, but was I just going to let the poor woman collapse there in front of me?” Richard redirected his attention back to the page. “Besides, it can’t be that bad, now can it.” The mischievous smirk Thomas oh so dearly treasured was adorning his face, which made the butler do both, doubt their baking abilities and believe in them. “Alright. Off to work, then.”

The ‘Log Thing’, as Richard had so kindly put it, turned out to be a french swiss roll with a cream filling. Thomas actually felt quite confident after Richard talked him through the steps to make it. He double checked the ingredients list by hooking his chin on his lover’s right shoulder, since no one else was in the room. They did follow the rules of circumspection. They truly tried. But even the most stoic butler deserved a little Christmas treat.

Richard’s eyes scanned the room at the sudden contact, once more making sure they were alone. When he assessed the situation as safe, his hand briefly reached upward to stroke Thomas’ temple, light as a feather but reassuring nonetheless. “Right”, the valet chuckled enthusiastically, “How about you start on the filling and I’ll attempt the sponge?”

Thomas lifted his weight off Richard’s body with a heavy sigh. “Don’t have much of a choice, do I.”

The pair of them started moving around the surfaces individually. Thomas gathered all the complicated ingredients he needed for the filling: double cream and sugar. With nifty hands, he measured the required amounts.

“Where’re the eggs?”

The butler turned his head slightly to the side, still focusing on the sugar trickling into the metalbowl of the kitchen machine.

“Huh?”

“The eggs, where are- nevermind, I’ve got them.”

Thomas heard a cupboard thud and then the other man’s steps, pushing past behind him. Just as the last crystals left the bowl in his hand, Thomas almost dropped it in shock when he felt strong knuckles brushing his upper thigh - very intentionally. He turned around fully this time to give a snarky comment, but Richard was already back to his spot next to the stove. The butler could feel him grinning in victory though. Bastard.

Thomas licked his lips and went back to his task at hand, clicking the bowl into place and placing it underneath the whisk. Nothing left but to push the button on the side, and the metallic whirring of the machine filled the open space. As Thomas took a small step backwards to admire his work, he picked up a cracking noise further down the counter.

“Christ.”

To Thomas’ right, Richard stood with a spatula in one hand, a spoon in the other, a smear of chocolate on his cheekbone and a broken egg on his shoes. The valet’s puppy-dog eyes were regarding the accident with a bit of horror, egg white dripping down the leather on his feet. “Oh no, those were brand new.” His frown emphasised the following conclusion. “I’m such a fopdoodle.”

That did it for the butler. He began howling with laughter, his abdomen cramping with the intensity of the hilarity. Tears began streaming down his face. He had to partly lie down on the wooden counter to hold himself up, not trusting his own legs to carry him. Richard pouted in the beginning but could not hide his own laughter while watching Thomas completely losing it.

Their guffaws reverberated from the halls, sooner rather than later attracting attention from other people in the house.

“Uh, are you two alright or has diphtheria spread to Downton?” Ms Baxter looked genuinely worried upon entering the kitchen.

Thomas, still leaning the entirety of his upper body onto the working counter, raised his moisture filled eyes to her face. “No”, he managed to wheeze, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more well.” He pushed himself back up, the waves of giggles slowly ebbing away. Richard was bent down, wiping at his shoes, still grinning at the ground. Ms Baxter eyed them suspiciously, moving towards the sink with a bucket of dirty water. “If you say so.” Behind her back, the men exchanged a cheeky glance.

“Actually Ms Baxter, while you’re here, do you have any shoe polish I may use?” Richard gestured at his stained dress shoe. “I’m afraid I’ve been behaving foolishly.”

The woman in question turned around, wiping her hands on her maid dress. She winced at the state of his grimy and slimy shoes. “Oh no, what happened?” 

Richard just held up a piece of broken egg shell. Ms Baxter nodded dryly. “Of course, give me a minute.” She moved a bit before rethinking her actions. “Actually, hand them to me and I’ll take care of them. That way you’ll be free to keep on doing-”, her gaze wandered in between the two helpless boys, “Whatever it is you were doing before.”

Richard tried to deny the offer, but about two minutes later Ms Baxter was leaving the kitchen and the valet was left behind in his socks. His toes were dancing to the rhythm of ‘Let it Snow’, which was currently playing on the radio. Thomas was sat atop the counter, watching the other man’s hands gently separate the remaining eggs. “Watch it, you’ve got a bit of shell there.” “I saw it, but thanks.”

A quiet calm settled in the kitchen for a while, the warmth of the pre-heated oven and the yellow light bulbs making the setting cozy compared to the outdoor conditions. Thomas found peace in the close proximity of Richard; he could see his eyelashes flutter and his nose scrunch up in concentration. Some powdered sugar stuck to his lower lip and chin, causing Thomas’ stare to be fixated on that spot for multiple minutes. Eventually, Richard straightened, smiling at the batter he had actually managed to create and transferred it into a baking tin. “That doesn’t look half bad. Mi mum’d be proud.” He pushed the tin into the oven and placed the kitchen timer on the stove, it ticking away steadily. 

Richard turned back around and redirected his grin at Thomas. When he noticed the look on the butler’s face though, his dimples disappeared fairly quickly. 

The valet licked his lips, not reaching the sugar. 

After that, the tension did not last long. Thomas reached forward, placing either of his hands on the sides of Richard’s face, pulling him forward forcefully. Richard stumbled in surprise, settling in between Thomas’ knees, but quickly recovered from the jerk when his lips met the butler’s. The valet sighed at the contact, enticing a buzzing feeling in Thomas’ fingertips and butterflies in the pit of his stomach. The kitchen and Downton Abbey, and the whole bloody world around them vanished in an instant. All Thomas could smell, hear, feel and breathe was the man in front of him. And he would not trade that for anything in the world.

Thomas pulled back slightly and traced his lips over the sugar covered spot on Richard’s chin, gingerly kissing the powder away.

“Who would’a thought you’d be that delicious.”

As Thomas pulled back, he registered the absolutely gobsmacked expression on the face of his opposite. The butler could not hold back a chuckle, warmth and safety bubbling up inside his chest.  _ Home is where the heart is, indeed. _

Footsteps from the hall made them jump apart in a split second.

Mrs Patmore reentered the kitchen. “Right, you two, how did you do? Any difficulties?” She shuffled to the oven, opening its door just a smidge. 

Richard was inconspicuously wiping his hands on a rag. “Just stuck it in a few minutes ago. Hope it’ll at least be edible.”

Mrs Patmore tutted at the self-deprecating statement. “Looks very good to me. I’ll have to repay you somehow in the future.”

Richard beamed at the compliment. “Nevermind.”

“Where’s the filling?”

Both the men pointed towards the kitchen machine, still happily whirring in the corner.

“Thank you so much, boys. You’ve saved my neck tonight.”

Thomas hopped down from the kitchen counter, clapping his hands together in the process. “Well, Mrs Patmore, are we dismissed?”

“Most certainly. Get out of here.”

And they did. Not without giggling to each other on their way out though, when Thomas accidentally stepped on to Richard’s almost bare big toe. 

_ Merry Christmas. It would be. _ Thomas was sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much @suklaakuppikakku for the yule log idea. Gold. LITERAL GOLD.


End file.
